The Tale of Argis the Bulwark
by Smoldering Thoughts
Summary: The housecarls of Skyrim weren't always as such. They have a history and a story. This is the story of Argis told from his very own lips. His adventures, his lovers and his scar. Rated T for suggestive themes, and descriptive gore. I don't own anything.
1. Chapter One: The Loss of a Heart

Chapter One: The Loss of a Heart

The stories of Skyrim told over a warm fire and a good jug of ale at the end of a long day, were that of your wildest dreams. Bandit raids, mighty kings, monstrous beasts, and dragons. Tales of love and heartache, or magic and courage, the smallest of people defeating the mightiest of foes. These were the things the small Nord children of Skyrim grew up with, these are the tales that I myself listened to night after night.

My name is Argis, I am son to Ylva and Frald the Stone and brother to Dyfrinna. On this night of the Second Seed my family and a scattering of the neighboring farmers gather under our small roof to drink and sing and tell of many wondrous tales. Tales to excite the dreams that slide into our heads as we lay upon the bed tonight.

My mother's small frame stands and she takes hold of my father's hand. I watch as he glances up at her in awe. I will never understand the looks he gives to her, as if the goddess herself stood before him. Her wise grey eyes scanned the company that we held within our walls, a sudden silence fell over them in blankets. She has always had that effect on people. For they knew when she was to tell a tale, you had better listen and listen well.

My mother was and always has been the storyteller, for as long as I could ever remember. Her words put pictures in your head filled with glory and wonder. It was as if she had magic within her lips, with every opening of her mouth came a spell that overtook your imagination and sent you on a trip with a brave hero.

Everyone sat waiting, their eyes glued to her. "What better tale to tell this fine night than that of the mighty hero Gunjar?" She began, her soft voice easing us into the adventure that was sure to unfold. "Everyone knows the story of his son, Bern who killed many a beast with his bare hands, but what of the man who raised him? Well this story begins not far from this very location. Gunjar dwelled within a valley, caring for his crops and cattle. That's right, this man made his start as a humble farmer. He would rise each morning with the sun, do his work with strong steady hands then retire to his bed chamber not long after the sun had fallen behind the horizon.

"It was on one exceptionally cold day that while he worked to care for a late calf's birth, he heard the cry of a wolf, not far off from his valley. Now Gunjar was no stupid man, he well knew that even if it happened to be just one wolf, it would be much too dangerous for his livestock to let it be." Many of the men with livestock themselves nodded in agreement, already quite enjoying the story. "So Gunjar put away his animals and slipped on the armor that waited in a closet near his bed. He took hold of his aged axe and shield, then left his home in search of the wolf.

"It wasn't long before Gunjar found himself hopelessly lost within the thick woods that surrounded his valley. Now this was something that came as quite the shock to Gunjar, for he traveled through the forests quite often to hunt and to get to the nearby town to sell his crops to the shops. However try as he might he couldn't seem to decipher which way was which. And just when he thought he had lost all hope, that he would die out in this labyrinthine forest he heard a sound. As to what sound he actually heard, no one is quite sure. Some say it was the howl of the wolf he hunted, others say it was the singing of a beautiful woman, and others still have said it was something of an even deadlier sort.

"So our hero followed the sounds through the woods, until he saw a light, coming through the trees into a clearing he saw a beautiful castle. Covered in twinkling gems of every color it almost blinded him. He covered his eyes and moved closer. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a swish of a tail, moving around the castle wall. Gunjar gripped his axe tighter, remembering his task at hand.

"Taking slow careful steps around the glittering walls Gunjar held his breath. The wall seemed to go on forever. He held his left hand against the jewels to help guide him, however once his skin made contact with the smooth gems the entire building went to smoke, evaporating into the sky. Gunjar fell back in shock for in place of the castle stood at least one hundred pure white wolves, their liquid blue eyes watching him intently.

"Now it is plain to see that at this point in our story Gunjar surely thought himself a goner. However when the wolves began to take slow steps towards him he kneeled to the ground. His body seemed to be moving against his better judgment, he laid his weapon to the ground and lowered his head as in prayer. He could hear the soft trodding steps of the creatures surrounding him, and though he should be shaking in fear instead he felt relief and peace.

"What happened next in our tale is something truly remarkable, for one by one the pale wolves began to change their forms to that of beautiful women wearing nothing but the skin of their births. It is said that Gunjar laid with every single one of those naked beauties that night, however it is also said that Gunjar had simply eaten a few Blisterwort by mistake. What really happened that night no one is sure, but what happened because of it will never be disputed." The men around the table whispered to each other, I could hear them tell of their wish to lay with many beautiful women as Gunjar had. I for one, found the idea of Blisterwort hallucinations to be far more likely. Boredom was setting in, don't get me wrong, I loved my mother's tales, but anything dealing with a farmer was likely to bore me to tears within minutes. My thoughts quieted as she continued.

"It seemed of all the women, there was but one that Gunjar truly cared for. He loved her with all his heart and had to have her as his own for if he had to let her go, he would surely die. When he asked her name and requested for her hand in marriage, her soft lips kissed his cheek 'My dearest I will give you as you ask, but you'll need to do three things for me.' He quickly accepted, willing to do anything he must to make her his own. 'I need proof of your strength, so travel to the mountains of Bjarminal and defeat the evil warrior Maltak. Next a proof of your intelligence, so make your way to the shrine of Zenithar and ask the shrine keeper for a duel of the minds. Lastly, proof of your devotion.' Gunjar nodded but then took her hand in his own. 'How do you wish me to prove my devotion to you my love?' Her eyes softened and she looked down on him, 'That is for your imagination. Now my dear, close your eyes and sleep' So Gunjar did as he was asked and fell asleep on the dirt

"His journey truly began in the morning, where he found himself neatly tucked away in his own warm bed. But the next part of this tale is rather long. A story told over multiple nights it seems." My mother smiled as the men and women grumbled in protest. I sighed in relief, my body was tired and I no longer wished to listen to the tale of farmer Gunjar the Dull.

"Well ladies and gentlemen I wish you all a restful sleep tonight and bid you a farewell." My father stood with her and they made their way to the bedchamber. Slowly the other farms men and women that lived near us filed out of our home. I stood and stretched my limbs then glanced at my older sister.

"Are you heading to bed Dyfrinna?" I asked her, hoping she would say yes. Although I would never say it out loud, I had trouble sleeping when left alone in our room. She nodded her head and rose from her seat, I tried to hide my look of relief.

"Come little brother, I'll tuck you in." Dyfrinna was always very kind to me, and we were very close. I followed her to the room and sat on the bed. "Did you like tonight's story?" She asked while getting comfortable beneath the skins of creatures used to warm us at night.

"To be honest, not particularly…" I felt almost ashamed to say it, but then again I never was very fond of any story involving simple people.

My sister nodded in understanding, she closed her eyes and a small smile appeared on her lips. "I didn't think you would. You won't grow old here on this farm will you Argis?"

"Not if I can help it." I answered swiftly with a scowl on my face. I had thought about this many a night. I knew it would crush mother and father for me to leave them behind, but it was my destiny I am sure of it.

"I didn't think so. I'd hope you won't leave too early little brother, I will miss your company." Her eyes were open again, her grey orbs filled with concern for me. "I know you have a restless heart Argis, but I worry that you will leave one day and I'll never hear from you again." I could understand her fears, the lands of Skyrim were at peace, but who knew how long that would last?

"You need not worry for me sister, I don't plan to leave any time soon. Maybe when I turn ten and five of year's father will see me as a man and allow me to seek my future." I could see that her already very pale skin turned even paler.

She sat up in her bed her black hair that seemed to be made of silk fell around her shoulders and pooled at her legs. She had the longest hair of any girl I had seen, many said it was luck father let her grow it to such a length. 'For a farmer's daughter was better off with hair short and tidy, something that wouldn't be in the way of her work.' I knew that father did not dare cut a single hair on her head, for it was of such beauty that even a Jarl's wife would be jealous of it.

"That is too soon!" Her voice was high pitched and filled with worry. That was Dyfrinna, she watched over everyone and cared for all of their health. She had even gotten into the trade of herbalism, and while she was not much older than I, she had become very skilled. People came to her for treatments of all sorts of ailments and she worked her magic to cure them.

I laughed off her concern, "It is still three more years Dyfrinna that is plenty of time. Besides by that point you will probably have taken over the work of the farm for mother and father. You may even have a husband and you will certainly be too busy to worry of me."

Her eyebrows raised at me and she placed a delicate hand on her chest, "I'm shocked that you'd think so little of me…" she shook her head and laid her head back on the bedding. "No brother, no matter how busy I become, you will always be an important aspect of my life." she sighed and turned on her side, it wasn't long till I heard her soft feminine snores from her side of the room.

In the light of the rising sun I opened my eyes and began my chores for the day. Feed the cattle, fetch the eggs from the nests, and pull nasty prickled weeds. I hated this life and would be glad when I was far from it. When I had any free time between the works, I would go behind the house and find a large stick. As soon as I took hold of the branch it would transform before my very eyes to a long great sword, or a powerful bow and I would destroy all my enemies with brute force and cunning.

It was on a bright morning, but two days after the 10 and 3rd anniversary of my birth while I practiced my skills that I heard my sister's high screams. At first I thought it my imagination- getting too deeply involved in my play fighting. However when I heard it again, followed by a cry of "Mother! Mother no!" I dropped the stick and rushed to give aid. Turning sharply around my home my clothing snagged on the sharp stone and tore. I whispered a small curse under my breath and pulled free, Dyfrinna needed me.

My blood went cold and I halted in my pursuit when I opened the door of my home. What few valuables that we had were gone, and my mother, my poor mother lay dead in front of the hearth fire. I watched as the light within her wise eyes drained, her pale skin turning to the shade of a whisp. Her soft features were contorted in the pain of her death and her legs laid in an unnatural position.

My sister fell to her knees, covering herself in our mother's blood as she gripped her cold shoulders and cried. I heard the heavy steps of my father behind me, but I couldn't find myself able to turn from the scene of murder.

My father heaved a heavy sigh and kneeled next to Dyfrinna, "Ylva, my beautiful Ylva…" his usual stern and steady voice shook with grief. A thief had walked right in under our noses and stole not only the few coins of gold held to our name, but also our dear mother's life. "Send for the guards Argis." Frold reached out and softly touched my mother's cheek, not bothering to glance at me.

My body stayed stuck in its position, like I was in a trance. I felt like my limbs were made of a heavy steel, too heavy for me to move. My father's angry glare was seared in my mind as he looked at me. "Get the guards boy!" His raised voice released the hold on my body and I slowly backed out of the home. No not home, it is no longer a home with her gone. Just four walls and a roof.

I allowed the tears to fall as I ran down the path, my heart beat faster and faster till I thought it was likely to burst. I followed the dirt path till I could see the shine of the guards chained metal armor. I was but another few paces from the man when I lost my footing and tripped, laying in the dirt at his feet. "Careful boy, where you headed in such a hurry?" his voice was rough and his hand hurt when it gripped my arm, helping me to my feet. He noticed my tears and torn clothes, his brows raised along with his interest. "What's the matter? Out with it then."

"My… she…" I couldn't seem to form the words between my hiccups and tears. "There!" I relented to simply pointing in the direction of my house. The guard wasted no time in making his way there, with his hand still wrapped around my arm he pulled me along at his side. He entered my doorway and let me go, pulling in a sharp intake of breath.

"By the gods. Who has done this?" He questioned my father, who held her limp body against him. His eyes were vacant as he looked up to the guard.

"A thief stole my heart…"

We held a funeral three days later. All of the farmers and their wives in the area gathered to say farewell to Ylva the Story Maiden. We placed her on a tower of hot fire wood and her spirit flew while her body burned. My father had lost all his light. He loved my mother so dearly that with her gone he was only a fragment of his former self. When she died, she took his heart with her.

So it seemed we were to go back to our usual routines, but I found it to be harder and harder to focus on the task at hand. All I could think of were my mother's story of Gunjar, all I felt was guilt for not pursuing her to finish that tale. Her last story.

Night came and my sister and I made our way to bed. But as I sat I couldn't help but speak out my thoughts. "You remember mother's tale of Gunjar right Dyfrinna?" she glanced back at me as she placed her work apron in the chest near the foot of her bed.

"Of course I do. Why do you bring that up now?" her tone was weary. She had worked long and hard these days while mother was gone. Taking up the work as the woman of the house. Her hair had slowly began to lose its shine, due to her stressed mind and body.

"Well I was thinking maybe it was a sign for me. Maybe Gunjar the simple farmer is me. Maybe I am destined for adventure as he was. Perhaps he went on the wolf-ladies quest and came back a warrior filled with adventure. What's to say that I couldn't do the same?" I couldn't stop the excitement that filled my voice with every word I spoke.

Dyfrinna sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes watching me with sadness, "Or perhaps he never made it back, perhaps the lady of the wolves lived out her days in grief from sending her lover to his doom." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mother never did finish the tale…" She must have been truly tired to speak so cynically. My sister always gave words of encouragement never of the opposite.

"Come now sister! This is my chance! I know I did not wait the full three years of yet, but I can just feel the wind calling me. It tells me I need to go." Her sigh was heavy and almost seemed angry.

"I will not have this. I just lost mother, I refuse to let you go too. It is too soon. "She laid back on her bedding and closed her eyes.

I felt anger fill me, "You may be the new lady of the house, but you are not the boss of me Dyfrinna!" I slammed my body against the bed and turned to face away from her, "I refuse to be dictated by your sorrow. I will be speaking to father about it in the morning." Silence from her side of the room was my answer. I knew she was well aware that father would never let me leave, but she was unaware of the trick I held in my sleeve. For if I were to prove to him my strength, courage, and skill surely he would let me go.

I waited, wide awake for her snores to fill the room before I rose to my feet. Padding softly like an assassin towards my father's bedchamber, I squinted looking for my prize. There sitting upon his bedside table his gleaming sword lay waiting for me. I took hold of its handle and pulled it towards me. The blade fell to the floor with a heavy thud and I froze. My father's breathing continued on, even and undisturbed. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding and strapped the heavy weapon to my waist.

This was but the first step of my Destiny.

XOXOXO

_That's is for today. The next step in Argis's story is soon to come. Tell me your thoughts._

_Your Humble Writer, _

_Smoldering Thoughts_


	2. Chapter Two: A Hunt for the Blind

Chapter Two: A Hunt for the Blind

The air was cold, and the wind whipped my gold hair around my face. I gripped the handle of my father's weapon tightly. It weighed heavy at my hip and was a constant reminder on what I planned to do. I strained my eyes to see through the darkness, cursing my lack of preparation. In better circumstances this hunt would be enacted on a night of full moon, so its light could lead the way. However I could no longer wait, my mother's death hung in the air like a constant stench and it was beginning to get increasingly difficult to ignore. I am to become a warrior, I reminded myself. At that, my mother's soft voice rang in my head, "Focus on the path in front of your feet my little Bulwark. Do that, and as surely as the sky is blue, your goals will be reached." I could almost feel her small pale hands squeeze my cheek.

That had been the first time my mother gave me the title "Bulwark". My chest had puffed with pride at the new name, hoping that it would turn out to be a fierce creature of some sort. "What is a Bu-bulwaaak?" Trying out the new word was of some difficulty for a boy of only three rotations.

My mother had laughed at my attempt and scooped me up in her arms, "Bulwark my dear. It's pronounced Bulwark." Placing a soft kiss on my head, she carried me to a far wall. Upon it hung a large map, something a little strange for a pair of nord farmers to own. "You see that little curve of the land?" I nodded my small head and followed her finger with bright eyes. "There right along the coast is a small town by the name of Raven Rock." She turned her eyes down at me, making sure I understood her.

"But mommy, what does that have to do with a bul-wa-erk?" I questioned, contorting my face in concentration of the pronunciation.

She smiled and set me on my feet, kneeling in front of me. "Well, you see there in Raven Rock the wind creates relentless ash storms, making life dangerous for the people who dwell there. So, to protect them, a giant wall of great strength and height was built. This kept them safe for many, many years. This wall was named, The Bulwark.

I felt my excitement deflate, a wall. She gave me a title of a wall, how boring, how dull. I couldn't stop my disappointment from showing on my face. Ylva giggled and my small puckered expression. "My dear, what's wrong?"

"Why a wall mama? Why not something scary! Or fierce like a saber cat!" She laughed as I ran around her, enacting a performance as a wild beast hissing and jumping from chair to chair.

She caught me mid leap and held me close to her bosom. "Because Argis, you will grow to be as strong as the wall Bulwark, not scary or angry as a wild saber cat. No, you will learn to protect and to defend the people that you care for. This I am sure of. "Her eyes held something in them that I didn't recognize, but her words didn't seem to calm my young thoughts...

The memory faded and I was left in the cold with silent tears wetting my cheeks. I wiped them away quickly and sniffled. "I must be strong." I reminded, having mother gone made my goal a little harder to reach. I want to be the man she foretold of, the strong wall capable of protecting all that I love from harm. However in order for me to do that I had to _learn_ to be strong right? Gaining strength and the skill to defend and fight would never be gained at the farm, of this I was sure. So my destiny was elsewhere, how far however was something I couldn't answer.

My mother's story of Gunjar was told for me, this I had come to realize since her… passing. My sister may not understand, but ever since our mother gave me the title of Bulwark I couldn't keep my mind from wandering to the adventures possible beyond the fields of our family farm. I may not have been named after a wild beast, but I would certainly live up to the name of a strong mighty wall.

That would be why I couldn't contain my excitement this night, for realizing that the story of Gunjar held a bit of my future within the tale made me smile. As if my wise mother had known to leave me with a story that would give me purpose after her death. Little did I know, that the tale held something much larger in it then just my future. However, this was something I would not discover till much later.

It was impossible for my mother to foresee her murder, however a small part of me was well aware that mother was an incredibly intelligent woman. So much so that knowing her life was drawing to an end wasn't so far off from a possibility. Maybe knowing of her end was the reason for her choice in telling, maybe she even knew that the tale would not be completed by her lips. It's possible that, that was her purpose, maybe I would find the completion on my journey.

And so, in my excitement to achieve the goal my mother had set for me I had said harsh words that wounded my soft hearted sister. The sadness in her eyes when I brought up my mother's story was seared in my memory. I had hurt her and I regretted the things I said in unthinking anger. I do miss my mother as she does, that was never in question, but I refused to let myself become stricken into a pit of depression. I needed to keep my mind active and distracted in order to keep from teetering on despair. I don't have the time to grieve and let my heart heal from the loss, mother saw me as the Bulwark, and the Bulwark I was determined to become. For her.

Of course in order for me to achieve that I must first prove myself to Frald the Stone. My father had gained his name from his unwavering decisions and strong hands, capable of completing the work of many men single handedly. That being in mind, my task was not to be an easy one. I would need to prove my courage and strength, and the best way to do that would be a hunt.

Something huge, something fierce, and something that belongs to the deep prints within the mud that I follow. Already I had come across a few swift rabbits and dispatched them with ease, however my aggravation was increasing. When would I run into the creature I stalked? I could not come back empty handed, no, I _refuse_ to come back empty handed.

Despite my earlier thoughts I stopped and sat against a large tree, my tired body getting the better of me. Just a short rest, that's all I needed, then I would be refreshed and ready to take down anything that came my way. I let my eyes drift closed and crossed my arms over my chest, attempting to conserve heat. Sleep overtook me quickly…

XOXOXOXOX

I woke to the sound of soft steps and growling, my eyes flew open and my hand shot to the handle of the weapon on my hip. Searching hard through the trees I saw it. A large rust hued wolf with his head bent low and teeth barred. Fear gripped me hard and I could feel my blood running cold within my veins. The wolf moved ever closer, growls becoming louder. My mind searched frantically for a solution. A voice whispered in my head, _'Wait for it to move closer, grab the sword and pull it out quickly. Make a hard slash across the face. Finish the job.' _My grip tightened on the handle, and determination took over. Whatever the voice was, I would follow it, and I would be victorious.

The angry animal came within range and I pulled out the sword, attempting to move it with great speed. What I wasn't planning on, however, was the weight of the steel. The weapon pulled out of its sheath in a painfully slow movement and dragged along the dirt in front of my feet. I grunted in exertion but the weapon barely lifted from the ground. The wolf snapped and jumped curling its clawed paw towards my eye. Blackness and searing pain were my rewards.

I lifted my hand to my face and pulled it back to my right. Hot, thick blood covered my fingers, and I could feel the shock kicking in. Behind me the wolf turned from its leap to face me again. I was to die in these woods, killed by the very creature I had hunted. Stupid boy, what were you thinking?

"Fuck!" Stomping and yelling. Not real, I'm gone, left my family to care for themselves. I'm selfish and deserve to die.

XOXOXOXOXOX

My face ached and I was too hot to think clearly, a fever maybe. A dream? Was my adventure just a dream caused by a simple illness? Had I not died in the woods? What of my wounds? The wolf? I worked hard to open my eyes, however it seemed only one would obey my call, like a canvas made of my weeping sisters face had been cut in two, and I was only able to see half of it.

I must have let a noise escape my lips, for her eyes shot to mine. "Argis! You wake!" She turned to a bowl filled with a mixture of herbs and water that sat on my bedside table. Taking hold of the sponge soaking in the healing liquid with steady hands, she squeezed it out, leaving it with just enough to be considered damp. She shifted her body towards me again and put the sponge to my dry mouth, letting a few drops fall in.

It tasted bitter, but the effects were immediate. The pain that was throbbing harder and harder from the left side of my face halted. I sighed in relief, and gave a small smile to my sister. She smiled back at me, without letting it reach her eyes, which were still filled with concern.

My ear began to itch, so I lifted my hand to scratch the skin, instead it rubbed fabric. My fingers followed the wrappings that seemed to cover half of my face, including my eye. That would explain it. "What… What happened?" My voice came out scratched and weak.

Dyfrinna took a hold of my hand, stopping me from pulling the obstruction from my face. "You don't remember?" She asked, her voice seemed small and extremely tired. I examined her face, finding her skin as white as mothers had been when she laid at our feet covered in blood. She also seemed thinner than usual, her skin pulling tight against her face and collar bones. Her hair was pulled up in a messy knot at the top of her skull. Something that was never done to her hair, 'too much damage' she had once told me. It seemed that the care of her once gorgeous hair has been abandoned.

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion, "I'm not… I don't…" I wanted to ask if the wolf were real, if it had simply been a dream. It certainly didn't seem like a dream, especially if the wrappings covered what I thought they might. I pulled my hand from her cold grasp and gently touched my covered eye, "Wolf?"

"That's right boy. You ran off in the middle of the night, took my sword without permission and went on a suicide mission." Frald's voice was deep with anger, his figure moved from my blind spot so I could look upon him. His pale blue eyes gazed on me with a fierce fire. He had his dirty blonde hair pulled back from his face and crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. It was on his arm that I noticed the wound. Deep, long bite barks and scratches covered his left forearm.

He must have noticed my stares, for he unfolded his arms and turned to hide the injuries. My father never was one to show weakness. "Why you dared going out into the woods, on your own, at this time of night is beyond me. What were you thinking Argis? You nearly got yourself killed! Hell you would've been had I not gotten up and noticed my weapon gone. You're lucky I found you when I did." He looked down and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dyfrinna stood and placed a delicate hand on our father's shoulder, he glanced up at her, softening his expression. "I believe it's high time that we all just headed to bed, it's been a long night and we all are very weary. We can speak in the morning, alright?" He nodded and made his way out of my line of sight and into his bedchamber, shoulders slumped. Dyfrinna came back to sit at my side, once again taking my hand between her cold, thin ones. "As for you, I want you to understand that you've hurt us all deeply tonight…" Her voice was soft, trying to speak to me kindly. However I could see the pain deep in her grey eyes. I opened my mouth to explain myself but she silenced me. "No, you listen. We all have lost mother, and the wounds of her absence are still very much open and bleeding. I understand we all grieve in our own way, but running off to 'fulfill your destiny' will only make matters worse. Avoiding your problems and pain never solves anything Argis, you need to understand that."

I watched as she closed her eyes and small tears fell from them, "I thought we were to lose you this night, so soon after mother's murder…" Her voice had lost all steadiness and her shoulders shook, trying to keep from sobbing.

"I didn't mean to hurt…" I trailed off, unsure as to how I should apologize. I knew I had acted selfishly, going on the hunt. My sister, my father they needed my help here and going out to kill a beast would not satisfy that...

Maybe I had read mother wrong, maybe the story of Gunjar was just that, a story. I attempted to explain this to her, "I had thought, Gunjar…" Dyfrinna's eyes flew open in teary-gazed anger.

"This again!? It was just a story! She told tales every night Argis, and that one was no different!" She grunted in frustration and wiped her tears away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell… It's just you can be so pig-headed sometimes." She stood and rubbed her hands on her dress, something she would do when she needed to calm herself. "We can talk when you wake, so for now just rest." She turned and went to her bed, falling asleep quickly.

The night had not had much left in it, and the sun rose quickly. I fell in and out of a restless sleep. I had expected my father to wake as soon as the sun had come over the horizon, but it continued on till near midday when he finally came from his room.

His hair was knotted and deep dark circles where under each blue eye. Many people had told me that I was a mirror image of him, 'certainly your fathers child' they would say. At times I could see what they meant. While I wasn't as large as he, I did have the same blue hue of my eyes and my hair took on the same hue. Mother said I had gained his looks and her father's restless heart.

I had never met my grandfather, but my mother spoke of him often. Having had been a man of the sea, Ylva had lived and saw many lands with him. When she had met my father and decided to settle down here with him and raise a family, my grandfather had smiled and kissed her on the forehead. He bid her farewell and good fortune, giving her his prized map and a promise to write often. It wasn't long before Dyfrinna and I had been born, and together we would read the letters aloud. I loved hearing his tales of adventure, but slowly after time the letters stopped coming. My mother had been hit hard with depression, but she kept on going, happy to have us with her.

Frald stopped and sat near the fire, staring with cold eyes at the blaze. I doubted he had slept very much, if at all. Memories of mother more than likely the cause. Since her death he had not slept well, waking up to go and sit in front of the fire. He reached out to adjust the wood and keep it burning, then sighed.

I had been so focused on my father's movements, afraid of when he would turn his gaze on me with anger once again, that I did not notice my sister enter the room. She had plain white, long fabrics in her hands, and was moving towards me. She didn't seem as exhausted as father, but it was certainly there.

My sister sat on the stool next to my bed and placed her hand on my head, "Don't seem to be too hot. The fever must have passed, that's a very good sign." She reached over and grabbed the ends of the wrappings on my face, "This may tug a little…"

XOXOXOX

_That's all for this bit. I'm hoping it doesn't sound too rushed or unclear. I know I got this chapter out rather soon after the first, I just had a bit of extra free time over the weekend to get this typed, I doubt the next will be as quick. I will try my best of course. _

_As always tell me your thoughts/questions/concerns/advice._

_Your Humble Writer,_

_Smoldering Thoughts_


	3. Chapter Three: Healing

Chapter Three: Healing

Several moons have passed since my wolves encounter and the attempts at healing from my injuries were slow. Exceeding so in fact, my body ached from lack of movement off my bed, leaving my mind to daydream. Often as I lay on my bedding, I would let my eyes drift close and think of a different life, a life where I was a fully grown man with facial hair a plenty and a strength that would strike fear into my foes. I had many adventures in this other life, better life, and nothing could stop me. I was impenetrable. Of course my thoughts during the days of slow healing weren't always filled with happy adventures. Other times the wolf would stalk my mind, his rust colored body would be tense and ready for the pounce. His yellow eyes would glare at my soul and his teeth would be barred, promising death. I doubt that I'd ever be capable of shaking that memory of the wolf, he would become the center of my nightmares for many years to come.

In between my thoughts, Dyfrinna would have me move from my cot. She would stand by my side and help me make my way about the house. My movements were slow, and while I could easily blame that on the fact that my laps would occur no more than once in a day, the truth was that I had become weak. The short daily exercise certainly wasn't anything exceedingly difficult, but I could not deny my lack of strength the healing process had caused. I hated admitting the weakness that I felt to my core, I hated the way I had to depend on my sister's small arm for balance, least I get dizzy and fall. Dyfrinna would often whisper small words of encouragement but I hated those most of all. That may sound bitter and ungrateful, but all they achieved was adding to the guilt.

My guilt came quickly after that first night, the burden I had placed upon my family's shoulders a constant pain in the back of my mind. It hurt to think that had I just listened to my sister that night, had I not been so self-centered, none of this would have ever happened. Dyfrinna deserved better, she didn't deserve the exhaustion that covered her soft features each morning as she removed the bandages and cleaned my wounds. She didn't deserve to spend her small amounts of free time on me and my care, her gaze never giving any hint as to what lay behind the wrappings, and she certainly didn't deserve to silently do her duty without a single complaint. While I never expected Dyfrinna to yell or curse at me for my actions, I also didn't expect her to remain completely silent. Maybe that was her way of getting back at me, all softness and forgiveness then let the guilt gnaw away at my conscious…

Of course my father was a different story. Frald was never known as a quiet man, so though I didn't expect screams from my sister, I _did_ expect them from our father. However after his yells that night, he seldom spoke a single word to me. I had a feeling that was because my actions were at the very back of his mind, that his silence was due to something that took a much stronger hold on his thoughts. I could feel it within my heart, his sadness was strong and gripped him hard. Although he would never outright admit it, I knew that he wasn't, and probably never truly would be, over mother's death. He would still complete his work at the farm, I would watch through the window as he birthed the calves, plowed the fields, and chopped trees. However I could see he had lost all spirit in the job, completing it simply as something to take up his time, not as something he wanted to do, or at the very least needed to do.

I worried for Frald, not only mentally but physically as well. Soon enough, I had noticed his neglect. He had left his wound unchecked, having ignored the pain and festering for so long. The reminder of his act in saving me becoming infected. It was on one evening as he sat eating the meal Dyfrinna had prepared for us that I had seen the rotting flesh peeking out beneath his sleeve. He was reaching out to adjust the logs of the fire when his angrily discolored skin peeked out from beneath his clothing. I had sucked in a quick breath, unable to hold back the "What is that?" which alerted my sister to the injury. He had pulled his sleeve down quickly, grumbling his displeasure.

Dyfrinna had been quick to stand and take hold of his arm, a stern look on her face. He looked sheepish and apologetic, like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. She pulled up the sleeve and had been quite alarmed at what she saw. Dark greenish flesh, torn and bubbled looking dark and disgusting. I turned my eyes away, attempting to keep the bile from rising up my throat. I knew without even looking that my sister's eyes stayed intent on the wound. She was strong, and had seen many a nasty wound, this one would be no different.

It had taken several weeks to get my father's arm to have healthy pink flesh again, for its movements not to be stiff but strong and swift. Several weeks of my sister caring for not only me, her reckless little brother, but also our headstrong father. My guilt pile just kept on moving high to the clouds as I watched her do her work.

XoXoXoXoX

My wrappings were to be removed permanently today, Dyfrinna had paused in her work at dabbing at my wounds. Her blank expression shifting as her lips turned up in a small smile. I saw her as she used to be then, younger and happier before our mothers passing. Dyfrinna had always been a beautiful girl, and now she was becoming a beautiful woman. Her body making the changes to move into adulthood, and with it came back the shine of her hair. After mother's death the long black strands began to go dry with stress and grief, and my injury simply added to it. However now, with my body becoming healthier and her mind being eased into a calming peace she was gaining her usual beauty back. Yet, even with all that she was still not at her peak, lots of work and little sleep being the main cause.

"Your wounds are healed Argis. We can keep these off now." She stated while tossing the white fabric into the fire. She stood to her full height, looking very much like Ylva, with her arms stretched out to assist me to my feet. Her pure black hair cascaded down from her head to her waist, the same as our mothers. Her features were a twin of Ylva's, a small pixie nose and full lips. Her skin was soft and pale like the moon, and her eyes were grey and filled with the same wisdom as mother's had had. She'd been gifted mother's appearance and I, my fathers.

I stood and took her arm, walking to a window with colored glass so I could peer upon my reflection. My skin was paler than its usual tone, the lack of sun rays touching my face made me look like a ghost. My good eye looked normal, if not a little sunken. My Left eye however, had gone a pearly white with blindness. Three silver scars ran their way up my jaw across my pale eye stopping just above my brow.

I had gotten used to the feeling of not being able to use my left eye, even when the bandages had been removed from my face for cleaning. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now that I saw it, now that I could look directly at the blank surface that was left of my eye, I had the sudden urge to rip it out. Violent shaking took over and I fell to my knees in front of the smooth glass. My sisters grasp on my arm released as she let it sink in.

I don't know what I expected to see when I saw my face again, scarring sure, maybe some paleness, but certainly not the colorless surface that took over my left eye. "Your eye would never heal. The attack may have taken half your sight, but it will not take your courage, understood Argis?" Her words reminded me of mothers name for me. I reached out and touched the cool glass. This would take some getting used to...

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

It took some time to get back into the routine of things. Dyfrinna wanted me to wait a few more sun passes before attempting to get back to work, but I refused to lay and play with my thumbs while I was healthy and capable of assisting. Besides, I doubted I could take another day of being idle. However, even getting back to the daily labors immediately didn't stop it from taking longer than I liked, too long to get used to only seeing half of what I was accustomed to.

The wind was warm and the sun even more so that very first day. The last edges of winter gone and life began anew in spring. I had missed out on the majority of the season while I had lay in bed, unable to participate in the assisting of birth. The tiny calves jumped and played in the fields, their mothers grazing on the soft bright grass. I smiled, hoping I could assist in feeding the small creatures. I love the joy of the season, so much life and renewal. Renewal, that's the word I must focus on.

I held my breath as I took slow steps out of the doors of my home. I expected Dyfrinna to take notice of my presence outdoors immediately, her face covered in displeasure that I was out walking around and concern for my health. I could just see her standing there with her hands on her hips, warning me to return to my bed and not to worry myself with the work. However she didn't seem to see me, her nose was buried deep in the papers she held. I stepped up to her cautiously, scanning her face, which was filled with concentration as she went over her notes.

I glanced over then, at a bit of movement. Many more helpful hands were busy working on the fields than what I was used to. "Why are all these people here Dyfrinna?" She lifted her pale face and looked at me with a bright smile.

"You're up! Oh you look so good, in need of a bit of color maybe, but that will be remedied soon I'm sure." She touched my forehead, checking my temperature. "Oh yes, very good." She let her hand fall, happiness radiating from her very core. "Now what was that you wanted? That's right!" She turned her bright eyes onto the several men hard at work with the crops. She laughed softly and looked back at me, "Why those are Kenneth's sons, they've been helping us since not long after you were hurt. You didn't think me and father were doing all this work on our own did you?" Honestly I had, that's why I was so ready to be out of the bed and helping her. She had looked so down hearted and tired, what else was I to assume but that she had been working herself to death? Looking at her now I was honestly shocked, it was like a complete change in her entire demeanor. Dyfrinna had been a happy person before mother's death, caring, kind, loving but now she was just bursting with joy. What could have possibly happened in the last few day to make her act so?

I brushed off the thoughts, enjoying her happiness while it was here. "Well I guess…" Dyfrinna laughed again and took my arm, placing her journal and papers under a rock and pulled me off to the side under an old tree.

"Of course we weren't silly!" She sat down and leaned against the trunk of the tree. "It was really hard at first, we tried to do everything on our own those first few days. I was still trying to figure out how mother managed to run everything so smoothly and I suppose I still am… but it was near impossible on our own, and with father hurting…" She paused likely thinking about how father was still hurting, and may very well hurt till the day he sends his spirit to Ylva's side. "Anyway, I decided to look for help. I had traveled to seek audience with the Jarl, I didn't really know if he could help, but anything was better than what we were doing."

I turned a questioning gaze onto her, "Why didn't you just ask assistance from one of the other farmers?" That seemed like the first thing I would have done, not schlep all the way up to the Jarl's longhouse.

Her eyes darkened, "They refused. I asked them, more like begged them for help, but every single one of them refused us." She sighed and ran her small hands over her dress, smoothing out the creases. "They told me that they were unable to spare anyone, that they had their hands full as is…" Her voice was tense, I could sense her anger rising. "I knew the truth though… "She kept her eyes down and told me her story. She had been at the alehouse one late evening, attempting to get a drink of something strong to help her sleep. She recited the words she heard from across the room in small whispers, the rumors of a curse being thrown on our family. "They think that we are cursed, Argis. They wouldn't help because mother was killed, our gold was taken and then not long after you…" She didn't finish her statement, though I knew what she referred to.

I placed my hand on hers, as she nervously picked at the threads on her gown. She looked up at me and her troubled eyes softened. "I'm really sorry for the trouble I've caused." She attempted to interrupt but I stopped her, "No, I have to get this out before guilt rips me in two." I looked forward and noticed father, his hair was growing thin and it seemed he was aging at a rapid rate. His eyes were blank and his hair turning a soft grey. When he had stated he lost his heart, he was not kidding. His will to live was deflating, and with it his health. "I was stupid. Stupid to think that running off to find a prized catch would ever heal any of the wounds I was suffering. I know now that the burden I placed on your shoulders was not something that should have ever existed and I'm truly sorry for it." I wanted to continue, I wanted to hold her cold hands and take away any of the hurt I had caused but I didn't have the power, so I sat silently.

Dyfrinna was quit, her soft breathing and the distant voices of the men of the field the only thing reaching my ears. I didn't dare look her in the eye for fear of what lay within those grey orbs. Finally after what seemed an era, she spoke. "I was going to say we all make mistakes, I was also going to say that you had no need to apologize to me. However by just looking at you I know these are not the right responses, not that they aren't true… Just not appropriate for the situation." She shifted her body and turned my shoulders with her hands. Looking straight into her eyes all I saw was my sister's full capacity for love and caring. "I forgive you Argis, for everything." A gigantic weight lifted from my heart and I was shocked to feel the wetness slide down my cheeks. She lifted her hand and brushed them away, "Careful Argis, you don't want any of the women folk to see you as a soft hearted man who cries, now do you?" I laughed, whipping the rest away with my sleeve. Dyfrinna stood and took in a deep breath, putting her hand out to me, helping me to my feet. "Come now, I have work to do and I believe its time you and father had a talk…" She gave me a look that to this day I could not possibly find the words to explain to you. However I knew there was no arguing with her or that look and with it, the weight reappeared upon my heart, this time filled more with fear than guilt.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

I had put off my father-son talk until very late in the day. We sat around the hearth fire, bowls of warm broth and veggies in our laps. Kenneth's sons had stayed for dinner and were a lively bunch of young men. The stories they told were a much needed distraction for my family, and the tricks they played on each other gave each of us a hearty laugh. Well, except my father.

He had finished his meal early and stood to put away his dish. My sister angled a warning look at me and I shivered. I had best get this over with, "um... Father?" He paused, as if not sure he had heard me correctly. I didn't blame him, we haven't truly spoken in at least a moon if not longer. "I was wondering if maybe I could speak to you, privately, before you make to your chamber for the night?" He turned his body, confusion written all over his aged face. His reply was a nod accompanied with a grunt, my stomach twisted.

I finished my meal slowly, not wanting to hurry off to see my father. Honestly I had no reason for the fear and nervousness that swirled inside me, but I couldn't seem to put a stop to it. Maybe I was afraid of what he thought of me, maybe I was afraid he wouldn't care, maybe both. I really wasn't sure. I moved to take care of my bowl, on account of the many glares I was receiving from my sister. I moved softly around the house, not sure where my father waited for me, but assuming on the location.

Just as I had assumed, he sat on a small log next to the place of mother's burning. His head was down and I could hear small murmurs from his lips. I slowed my steps, so as not to disturb him. "I miss you so much dearest... More than you can ever know." his voice was filled with pain, filled with so much emotion that it shook me to my core. My parents had loved each other so fiercely that many called it a spell. Now one was gone and the other could barely take the loneliness. Love sounded like a painful thing... "I'm so close, so close I can feel it, that bastard that took you from me will pay…" I stopped, just a few steps from him and my eyes widened in shock. He had been hunting the thief? What was he thinking? Frald may be a strong man, but he was no warrior, nor was he a detective of any kind. All that he would do was get himself killed.

"Is this true?" He sat bolt upright, his head turning with a glare plastered on his face.

"Aye that it is." He shuffled his feet, face full of defiance, just begging for me to tell him not to. "What of it?"

I decided I would tread carefully on this subject, "Nothing, disregard." This hunt may very well be the only thing keeping him from dying out of grief, but he would need to be watched.

He grunted and turned his eyes away from me, he swept his hand toward the area on the log next to him. "Sit son, let us speak." I moved to the location and opened my lips to speak.

XOXOXOXOX

_I apologize many times over for the wait. I've been very busy the last few months and had little time to work on this. Working two jobs and school on top of that was the main cause, but the holidays made it so much worse. But don't you worry! I plan on completing this tale! It was actually rather difficult to get this chapter out, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it, so I'm very sorry if it jumps around or is boring in any way._

_PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK. It really does help with my writing process, any suggestions or ideas that you have, throw them my way! The story and I thrive off them!_

_Until next time (I won't make you wait as long I assure you)._

_Sincerely Your Humble Writer, _

_Smoldering Thoughts_


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